Piano Keys and Fathomable Lies
by MorganGrimm
Summary: Your mother is making you learn to play piano from a boy who is only a year older than you and is insufferably cheery all the time. You couldn't be less thrilled. John/Karkat AU Sadstuck Oneshot/Drabble Character Death


Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are being forced to learn to play the piano. You're twelve years old and you couldn't be less thrilled with this proposition. You have better things to do than learning some instrument, like playing games with your friends Terezi, Gamzee, and Vriska.

You dread the moments leading up to your teacher's arrival, and they are spent sitting by the front window wishing and praying that they would flake or at least be late. But bitterness pools in your stomach as you watch a car pull up.

Though, you have to admit, you are vaguely surprised when a boy no older than thirteen climbs out and the car drives away.

You watch him as he steps up to the door and knocks. Your mother answers the door and ushers the boy inside.

He gives you a nervous grin, and you notice that he has buckteeth. His hair is black and messy, similar to yours, and his eyes are a striking blue.

You sneer in return to his smile. You have no desire to engage in friendly speaking with this boy, and you are not going to follow his orders.

"Karkat, this is John," your mother says with a grin. You glare venomously at the pair of them, baring your play-fangs you received from Vriska on your tenth birthday – for role-playing purposes, of course. Your mother scolds you and puts a hand out for your fangs. You spit them into her hand, making sure that a lot of spit is ejected into your mother's hand.

John watches the exchanged with a bemused look on his face. It makes you angrier. Your mother absconds to the kitchen with a dirty look sent your way and orders you to behave on her way out.

You sit sullenly at the piano and glower at the black and white keys. John sits next to you and places a book on the tray.

"I got this book for you, Karkat," he says quietly, like he is afraid of your opinion. You can't understand why, though. He's a year older than you; kids his age beat you up all the time.

"Whatever," you say. You have no desire to be here right now. You'd much rather be at Gamzee's house playing games on his Wii and drinking that terrible red soda that he constantly drinks instead of here with this boy that already infuriates you and learning some boring thing you don't want to learn.

You spend the whole hour grumpily mumbling to yourself as he attempts to teach you the notes. He's obviously a bit uncomfortable with your attitude and snarky remarks that you make sometimes, but he doesn't complain and remains chipper the whole time, which also adds to your terrible mood.

When he leaves, you stick your tongue out at him on his way out. Your mother scolds you, but you simply ignore her.

This is going to be insufferable.

* * *

"Ugh," you groan the next day at school. "I don't want to learn to play the piano."

Gamzee shrugs at you, giving you that laidback grin he always flashes. "Whatever man. It'll result in a miracle, I'm telling you."

You frown. Gamzee's constant miracle references aren't comforting in the least right now, especially because you highly doubt that it will indeed result in said miracle.

Terezi isn't much help either. She just cackles and says nothing.

Vriska just wants to know if he's 'cuuuuuuuute'. She's asked eight times already and you have don't feel like indulging her right now.

You sigh and sink farther down the brick wall of the school behind you. Your mother is making you take six years of lessons. You don't think you'll even make it to one.

* * *

A year later, and you've successfully made it a year through lessons. It was a battle, but you did it, and it turns out you aren't too terrible at the piano. You still don't enjoy it though.

John has warmed up to you by now, and is always wearing a smile. He greets you happily every Thursday when you have your lessons.

John isn't as bad as you originally thought, but he isn't the greatest of guys either. You don't exactly want to get chummy with him, but he's not terrible. You still hate his guts though, and you make sure to remind him every chance you get.

The only response you ever get is a bright, lively smile and a 'I know, Karkat'.

* * *

It's when you turn fourteen a year later when you realize that you like boys instead of girls.

You're friends are cool with it. They don't tease you, like the other kids do. The other kids make you go home nursing bruises almost daily.

When John sees your bruises, that constant smile he wears slips away and he frowns deeply. He always gingerly touches the injured area and asks who gave it to you.

Your answer is a complete lie and you both know it; "Just got ruffed up. What, you don't get in fights, Egderp?"

And his smile returns, but it isn't as bright and there is a hint of concern in his eyes, but he allows you to lie and continues with the lesson.

You can't fathom why you lie. But you know that when John's smooth fingers gently touch the bruise on your cheek, it makes your face heat up and your heart pound. You're positive he can hear it, but if he can, he doesn't let on.

* * *

Another year has passed. You're fifteen and John is sixteen. He has become a good friend of yours, but something inside of you aches when you see him with that Dave boy he's friends with.

As much as you don't want to admit it, you wish you could have even more of John's attention, not that Dave kid.

You've begun to loathe Dave's existence.

You and John begin to hang out more than just piano lessons. You still pretend to have a bit of hateful feelings for the boy, but you can't deny that you don't harbor those feelings any longer. All you want is to be in his presence and be with him, but you're sure if he found out how you felt about him he would hate you.

What hurts more than anything, more than seeing him constantly by Dave's side, is when he says "I'm not a homosexual".

You're positive he would be absolutely disgusted with you if he found out how you feel about him, and it hurts.

You begin to wonder if he tells the truth though. You remember how it feels when he touches your injuries and the look on his face and you wonder if he really does like you in the way that you like him.

* * *

A whole year passes before you get the courage to confess. You're sitting together in your bedroom. John is sitting on the bed next to you and you're watching some ridiculous movie he likes, but you have to admit you're not watching the shitty movie, you're watching him. You're hyperaware of how close you are to him, and your heart is beating like crazy.

"John," you say. When he looks over at you, your faces are merely inches away. You lean in and seal the deal, pressing your lips to his for a few moments. He seems surprised at first, but them leans into it.

When you lean back you give him a small smile and he gladly returns it.

From then on, you two are inseparable, just how you like it. You spend as much time as you can with him, and you enjoy the fluttering feeling you get when he kisses you softly and the hot feeling you get when he kisses you passionately.

You're as happy as you've ever been before, and you're glad that your feelings were returned.

You've fallen head over heels for this dumb boy and you love him as much as you think is possible.

* * *

It's John's eighteenth birthday, and you are both in the middle of a heated argument. John is moving away for college, and your heart is breaking.

You scream and shout at him and throw a few things.

He remains as calm as possible, but he is visibly shaking and just as angry as you are.

"Don't be so selfish Karkat!" he says to you.

You glower. "I'm not being selfish! But you can't leave! You can't!" The words I love you were supposed to be said, but they were skipped over as you can't seem to wedge the words out.

He growls and turns around, heading for the door. You want to stop him, to say your sorry and that you love him with all your heart, but you don't move. You don't move when you hear his car door slam shut and speed away. You don't move until you hear the phone ring.

It's John's dad, bearing the worst news you have ever been presented with in your life.

You feel numb inside.

* * *

You spend every hour you can by his side. The constant beeping of the machine is a slight comfort to you, but it's driving you crazy.

You hold his hand you are willing him to wake up with all of your heart.

You talk to him. Tell him you didn't mean it. That you love him with all of your being.

But it does nothing.

The low and steady beep that you have been dreading arrives, and you couldn't possibly hate yourself any more than you do right now.

* * *

The rest of the week is a blur, and you find yourself sitting in your living room in front of your piano.

You press you fingers to the keys, just like John taught you, and you play his favorite song.

The keys have suddenly become wet as you discover that you are crying.

And you cry, and cry, until you feel like you can't anymore, and even then tears still flow from your eyes.

You play and play until you're fingers stop moving and your heart stops beating.

And the steady music lulls you into a better place. A place where you can be forever with him and together you can play.


End file.
